“It’s me,” Abby said. She was kneeling beside him. “It’s okay, you’re all right now, you’re all right.”

“How long have I been out?” he said, touching a sore spot on his head where he must have bumped it. He saw that he was on the floor near the file cabinet, surrounded by scattered papers.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I just got here and you were lying on the ground.”

She looked so concerned that it made him feel better. And maybe it was the relief of seeing her worried face, or the relief that it was her and not some ghost of the past made real—Dan didn’t know and he didn’t care—but suddenly he reached up, pulled her in, and kissed her.

It surprised them both.

“Oh. Well,” Abby breathed. She tasted like Altoids and cherry lip balm. “I guess we can stop pretending to hate each other now, huh?”

“I guess so,” Dan replied.

She smiled up down him. “And . . . can we just pretend I never said that stuff about you being a weirdo?”

“Wait a minute, what stuff?” he asked.

Abby swatted him lightly on the chest. As nice as it was to see her smiling and laughing again, Dan really didn’t remember her calling him a weirdo. Had he blocked that out, or did she mean she’d said it to some of her art friends? Or to Ash.

Dan shook his head. He wasn’t going down that road. Not anymore. He had kissed her and it was as good as he could ever have hoped.

“We should get out of here,” Abby said. “This place gives me the creeps.”

She helped Dan get up. His head hurt, and he felt more than a little dizzy.

“Hey,” he said suddenly, “what are you doing down here anyway?”

Abby looked a little embarrassed. “Um . . . I went to your room after dinner, just to see you and apologize for the way I’ve been acting. You weren’t there so I got worried that you’d come down here by yourself. I guess I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Dan reached out and took Abby’s hand, and she gave it a squeeze. They walked up the stepped rows. Back at the top, Dan stopped to flick off the lights. He turned around and took one more look at the now-dark chamber.

Two bright spots glowed from the far corner.

Just a trick of the eye. Just imprints of the lightbulbs left behind. Not the eyes of men watching. Dan shut the door quickly behind him.

“What’s the hold up?” Abby asked.

Dan moved next to her, shaking his head. “Nothing,” he said softly. “Nothing. Let’s just get out of here. Are you hungry? I’ve got some amazingly stale snack cakes up in my room.”

“Sounds delicious,” Abby said, leaning into him. “It’s a date.”